I Bet My Life
by thelittlethingsinourlives
Summary: A one-shot inspired by the "Studierzimmer"(study room)-scene from Goethe's "Faust" . You don't have to know "Faust" to read this. ReidXReader [English is not my first language so please correct me.]


**Title:** I Bet My Life

 **Author:** thelittlethingsinourlives

 **Rating:** T+ (dark, manipulative, the devil ?, magic, sexual tension, two sentences of blasphemy)

 **Notes: This is my first story in English and it's NOT my first language, so please correct all of my mistakes !** This story is inspired by the novel "Faust, Part One" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe so it's not the same, maybe three to five quotes but that's it. Just got the idea while reading the "Studierzimmer"(study room)-scene. **You don't have to watch CM for reading this drabble.**  
 **Short, short, very short summary for those who don't know "Faust"** \- Faust is a very smart and pious man (doctor, magister etc.) but at some point of his life he realizes that he can't know everything so he decides to make a pact with Mephistoteles (the devil) to _"perceive whatever holds / The world together in its inmost folds_ ".

(Y/N) - your name

(Y/H/C) - your hair colour

(Y/E/C) - your eye colour

(Y/H/length) - your hair length

 **I Bet My Life**

Someone knocks at the door. Silence was the only response. Reid sat on his sofa, almost disappeared in the darkness of the room even though the lamp besides him is on. Weak light, no noises, no nothing. Suddenly he sighs after what felt like an eternity and answeres with his low and calm voice.  
„Yes ?"  
„It's me."  
„Come inside !"  
„You have to say it three times !"  
„Come in !"  
The lights of the corridor sets in and for a very short moment the whole room was enlightened. (Y/N) tiptoes quietly in Reid's so-called "home". The man sitting with his back to her still hasn't said a word and (Y/N) was sure he wouldn't for the next seconds. With a hand movement she magically lights the lamp which is standing on the little wooden, book-filled table next to the cozy-looking armchair she knows too well. Now that she could finally see something she also notices that the brown-haired guy opposite to her hasn't changed his clothes for the past four days. On one hand she thinks it's disgusting but on the other one she thinks it's quite cute.  
„That's how I like you !" she says out loud. „I hope we're going to live in harmony."  
No answer.  
„I thought we talked about it – when you want something, just ASK. So you can't call me and demand me to come to your … home to say nothing ! Oh dear, your friends must have a hard time understanding your manners."  
She just heard him breathing. Being forced to do something, she moves to the brown seat accommodation in the middle of the room. Everything in this appartement is messy, no real atmosphere to start feeling a little bit comfortable. Only the armchair on the other side of the room that practically screamed her name looks homelike. Her hand touchs the sofa, draws imaginary circles in the cold leather. She has no idea why she's waiting or for what. Maybe for a short „Please sit down, (Y/N)" but nothing comes out of his mouth. That's why she choses to take some more steps in his direction until her hand has no more leather to draw circles on.  
Up to now they didn't exchanged a face-to-face conversation since she entered the room. Spencer Reid is a doctor in mathematics, chemistry and engineering, he for sure knows so much about sociology and psychology. Maybe it's a trick, the thought crossed her mind so fast and left immediatly when he comes to shift to the right. The whole time he claimed the full couch by sitting right in the middle – now there is enough space for the (Y/E/C)-eyed to sit next to him. Now it's her time to sigh.  
„Is that your way to welcome a guest ?" she snaps.  
„I'm sorry. Thank you for coming tonight."  
His sudden response surprised her. With a simple shrug she sits down and replies „You're welcome.". Her eyes watch him closely, from his curly brown hair to the tips of his shoes. „So lover-boy, what do you want from me ? A curse ? A spell ? An answer to all of your problems ? A blessing ? - Wait ! I'm not that asshole called God !" Lonely she bursts out laughing, Reid could have promissed that she even tears of joy run down her lovely face. From one moment to the other she puts on her serious face and looked straight out of the open window. The cold breeze blows through her (Y/H/length) hair and Reid smelled something familiar.  
„I have a wish, not a exactly a wish, it's a hope or desire for something, you know. In fiction a wish is a supernatural plea placed on the recipient's unlimited petition. When it is the center of a tale, the wish is naturally a template for a-" she cuts him off by imitating snoring. He just smiles to the floor.  
„You know what I want. I'm sick of telling people I don't know something. They think I should know every answer to every question and, to be honest, I sometimes think the same about myself."  
His final gaze makes the girl changing her pose minimally. „Okay, that isn't how things should go. I'm not one of the biggest but if you agree to this pact, to allow me following every step of your life then I'm going to be your servant, the one who will never leave your side no matter what. I will serve you as long as you want."  
„And what should I sacrifice ? The devil is an egoist, there's always a catch." he says, a distrustful look on his tired face.  
„Remember ? You called me !" Again she laughs as if someone told the best joke of all time. „Lover-boy, the only thing you can offer me is …" she came closer to his face, maybe too close but he didn't backs away. „… on the other side, when we meet on the other side, you'll return my action, okay ?"  
„If there's a real afterlife. People may have near-deatch experiences but that doesn't prove anything. Scientific …" while he philosophises about God – this douche – and the world (Y/N) zoned out. She has to admit she loves to listen to his voice but not the stuff he's actually saying. After a short while she interrupts him. „And that means ?"  
„Yes, I agree but under one condition. Can you give me what I want ?"  
The (Y/H/C)-haired woman raised a brow, first because she thought this question was ridiculous and the second thing is that she expected a retraction. „Are you serious ? I thought you would change your mind and would like to undo certain things in your life, like healing your mother's schizophrenia, saving your girlfriend – what was her name again – Maeve, bring back that Gideon-guy to the BAU – wait BAU stands for-"  
Reid herrumphs quietly. „Behavioral Analysis Unit, it's a part of the FBI, Federal Bureau of Investigation. And no, there's no use crying over spilt milk. I think I'm more useful when I know more."  
He looks down, starring at the floor again. He tried it, avoided as many situations as possible. Inner wounds don't heal that fast, maybe they don't even heal. Mentioning some of the people he cared and cares so much about strikes a nerve. Reid slowly tries to calm himself down, breathing carefully like he would destroy his everything when he inhales too much air. The person sitting next to him keeps being quite, knowing the suffer of human-beings.  
„You can take me when I accept myself, when I enjoy every little moment, when I can say it's enough knowledge, you can take my soul, my body if you can promise that it's painless." he changed the subject rapid.  
His only audience nods, rises from her seat and hits the road to the kitchen. She grabs two wine glasses, a good old, dry red wine and a sharp knife. Instantly she goes back to the nice sofa. Both of the glasses are filled with the red liquid when (Y/N) flicks one's fingers. „Ever contract is signed with wine."  
On the other end of the sofa her dialogue partner wants to add something but she just cuts him off, again. „I have no idea why you, the Supervisory Special Agent with an IQ of 187 who is able to read 20,000 words per minute and chases serial killers every day, choses to deal with the devil."  
He isn't answering afresh. They stay silent. His gaze goes to her shoes which aren't on her feets. It would be such an Irony if the devil would really wear _Prada_. Then he starts to study the rest of her – the red dress she wears, her (Y/H/C) hair, her (Y/E/C) eyes, the soft red lipstick and the knife she holds in her right hand. A knife ?! Apparently you aren't supposed to mess up with the devil.  
„I don't want to hurt you." she assures him. „I need your blood for the contract. Besides the good wine you haven't tried I also need your blood."  
Within seconds he takes the pointy object and cuts himself in the index finger. The blood immediatly pours down his palm and forms a red sea. He can catch her taking out a piece of paper out of her bra. As she notices him he blushes. The paper – which exposed as the agreement – lays on the wooden table in front of them. He takes an empty biro, dips it in the blood and signs next to the signature of her. When he finishs she grabs his bleeding finger, licks it soft. He feels the tingles but also sees that there's no bleeding anymore. As soon as she releases his hand – which both regret right after that – her hand hoves above the paper and it disappeares. (Y/N) stands up, heads to the door, opens it, takes her red Prada heels inside, closes the door and places herself in the armchair she admired since her first visit a couple of months ago.  
„Nice heels." Reid smiles.  
„Thanks." she looks at him proudly.  
Before she leaves she turn back at him. „Because I accompany you from now on everytime – we need a good lie, what am I now ? Your long lost cousin ? Your distant aunt ? Your-"  
„… new girlfriend." he finishs her sentence and the (Y/H/C)-haired nods with a smirk complementing her beautiful face.  
Both nod at each other. „Goodbye, (Y/N). See you tomorrow … ?"  
„Good night, Dr. Reid." she says before the door closes.


End file.
